Avi Avi Avi Commence Stars
by Renfields-Spider
Summary: This line broke my heart and I couldn't get it out of my head. If like me you've wondered about Avitus Rix and Macen Barro then come along and see where my wonderings took me. A retrospective look at the past of Avitus Rix and Macen Barro in the Milky Way, held together by the Andromeda present.


'Avi. Avi. Avi. Commence. Stars.'

Avitus opened his eyes. It was dark. He tried to speak but his mandibles rasped. No words came out, instead he coughed. He tried to sit up and mashed his face against… something. A stasis pod, his stasis pod. A flutter of unease stirred. It had been a joke between himself and Macen, a rather dark humour in the time leading up to stasis. Avitus had been uneasy about knowingly sealing himself inside a burial chamber, as he'd termed it. He'd had two questions: would he be aware of the passing time and what if he woke up? Macen had unwavering confidence in the science and tech. As a Spectre, Avitus was used to things not always living up to expectation or going to plan. Macen had an optimism that flew in the face of expectation.

Feeling upwards he ran his fingers along the edges of what he could find. It was cool to the touch. He looked for and found the catch release for the pod from the inside and felt a little relieved. It was something he'd insisted on knowing before even setting foot inside. Avitus pulled the catch and nothing happened. He pushed out but it didn't budge. Of course the release didn't work. That's how this day was going to go. He'd had days like this once or twice, it was like rolling downhill in a shitstorm, anything that could go wrong, would go wrong and there was nothing you could do about it. There wasn't enough room to bring his knees up so he turned onto his side as best he could. Drawing up both legs he could get more force into kicking out. This too was futile. The pod had zero power: how long had he been disconnected?

'SAM? SAM can you hear me?' Avitus waited and when no-one replied, 'Macen? Macen? Anyone?' He huffed a frustrated sigh. Well SAM not transferring to him was a good sign… or a very, very bad one. Avitus choose to believe until evidence told him something different that Macen was alive. Nothing else mattered really. Yes, he'd agreed to all the stuff about new starts and establishing a new hierarchy. He'd even agreed to be a backup for Pathfinder, not ever thinking for one moment it would be required of him. It really wouldn't have mattered what Macen had asked for, he would've done it. His happiness went hand in hand with Macen's and if he was happy, so was Avitus.

A loud screeching sound, like metal being dragged against metal pulled Avitus violently from his recollections. The sound was slightly muffled by the pod. Then there was something else… a roar?

'Yes, Macen, there is always something worse. Why do I always have to be right?'

Suffocating in a pod is one thing, being eaten alive was entirely another. Avitus reflected that having a good imagination in death scenarios was both a blessing and a curse.

The pod moved, Avitus felt a thudding then light shone into is eyes, then dark, then light, dark, light, dark, light. The pod was spinning in freefall. The landing stunned him and for a moment was knocked out.

It was the light that awoke him a few minutes later. He saw foliage, trees and plants. There was a streak of mud and beads of water on the outside of the pod window. The colours took his breath away. Beautiful purples, dark greens and blues, glistening in the damp of the forest. Macen would love this, he thought. He could no longer hear the roaring sounds and he couldn't see any movement outside of the pod. Or any other pods for that matter. He was alone. Then he realised the colours weren't taking his breath away, there was no breath to be had.

Avitus punched the window. It didn't break, but his hand made an unsettling crunching sound. He needed a point, something hard to help the plexi-glass shatter. He'd tried to sneak in weapons and Macen had laughed; apparently his psychological need to be armed was endearing. It didn't feel so endearing now. Fumbling around he found nothing loose, but managed to pry open a panel with his fingertips. He could feel the warmth of his own blood running over his fingers. I didn't need that skin anyway, he thought. Inside the panel he found a tiny fixing, hard and pointy. He held it so the pointy end was poking out just out of the side of his fist. He could feel his breath catching now, his heart was starting to pump harder and faster trying to get oxygen to his organs. He estimated he had five minutes or so, seven or eight if he could hold his breath. The pain helped clarify his focus. Holding the fixing over the glass Avitus hit it as hard as he could. No damage. His head was starting to hurt. This was nothing, he could do this. He hit it again and again and again. Nothing. Losing his temper he struck out poorly, failing to keep the fixing straight it slipped and lodged deeply into his hand. He ignored it and started to pull at the panel he'd loosened. More came away as he did so, he yanked at wires and circuitry and pried anything he could get any sort of leverage on. Using the pieces of panel he lodged them into the join of where the manual pod catch opened. He lent on it with all the weight and leverage he could muster in the confined space. The metal dug into him, there would be bruising he assessed. His heart had started to slow and he knew he was dying. He had to get to Macen. He just HAD too. The burning in his chest was… awful. The edges of his consciousness started to erode. He hit it again. And again. It didn't budge. The sense of injustice burned almost as much as his lungs. He wiggled the panel pieces hoping to get them in further.

Click. Psssst.

Air rushed in and Avitus breathed in deeply, gasping. It occurred to him in those few nanoseconds that the air in this place might kill him just as quickly as the lack of it.

Avitus pushed the pod hatch and it didn't open.

Screaming in the confined space hurt his olfactory senses, but he screamed anyway. He raged punching, kicking, and scratching at the walls of his tomb. Then nothing.

Avitus chuckled in the silent darkness.

'Some retirement.' The chuckle caught in his chest and Avitus choked back a sob.

Macen. This time the fear Avitus felt was not for himself. Where was Macen?

…

'It will be fine, Avi, I promise.' Macen's voice, his tone was always so reassuring that one could forget the subject of conversation.

'Don't say that.'

'Why ever not?' The look of 'who me?' added to the charm that Macen always seemed to have in an endless supply. Sometimes, like now, it was deliberately overdone.

'Because when you say that what usually follows is the exact opposite of fine.'

Macen laughed, his body shook.

'Shhhhh…. Damn it, Macen, are you trying to get us killed?' Avitus ducked down behind the packing crates they were loitering by. He reached up and pulled Macen down. Macen fell on his behind, still amused.

'It's not funny. You're going to alert the Batarian's to our presence.'

Macen turned to face Avitus and then patted him on the shoulder.

'You worry too much.'

'Don't be so clichéd, 'It'll be fine' and 'You worry too much' is bad enough. Why not follow it with 'What's the worst that could happen?' and really doom us.

'Well… what is-. ' Macen was cut short by Avitus putting his hand over Macen's mouth.

'Don't you dare,' Avitus growled. Macen's eyes shone with amusement. 'Concentrate on the job in hand, help me with these slavers, then you can try your luck.' Avitus removed his hand and glanced over the top of the crates.

'Our luck, Avi.'

'Precisely.'

'I'm not even sure how I got dragged into this again.'

'You volunteered.' Avitus stood crouched and shifted along the crates so that they were closer to the targets. Macen followed.

'That's not how I remember it. It was something along the lines of an early morning comm from a Spectre friend who still hasn't learnt how to play nice with others.' Macen ducked down beside Avitus, checking all angles of approach.

'I play nice.'

Macen chuckled again and looked over the top of the crate.

'Avi, you play, but only in the same way a predator plays with its prey.'

'Thanks.'

'That wasn't a compliment.'

'I'm taking it as one.' Avitus bobbed his head, amused.

'Well, either way I'm glad you asked me along to help free the captives.'

'Yeah… captives, sure.' Avitus looked away as he answered.

Macen turned and looked at Avitus, squinting his eyes in suspicion.

'Avi…' Macen's tone was a question as well as a warning. 'Avi, we are here to free the slaves, right?'

'Yes… of course.'

'Avi…'

'Well there might be a little more to it than that.' Avitus used his omni-tool to scan and check comm chatter.

'Like what exactly?'

'There might be a slaver here with intel I need.'

'Right so we free the slaves and then get the intel.'

'Or… we get the intel then free the slaves.'

'Avi!' Hissed Macen.

'What?'

'Those people deserve to be free.'

'Yes.'

'Yes, but…?'

'But not at the expense of the intel.'

Macen looked away and Avitus felt a wave of shame. He liked Macen's expertise but not his judgements, being a Spectre was all about making the hard choices. Macen should know better.

'Both objectives can be achieved,' Macen's voice was lower now.

'I suppose.'

'Then why not try for that first, Avi?'

'Look it's not that I don't care, it's just the Intel is really important.'

'So are their lives… to them.'

'I understand, Macen, I do but if you'd ever finished your Spectre training you'd know I was right.'

'No. All you are making me see is that I was right not to finish.'

'Macen, are we going to have a problem here?'

'No Sir, Spectre Rix, sir.'

Avitus looked at Macen for a moment. Macen didn't turn to face him and that stung. Barro kept his eyes front and centre, tracking and following the Batarian's movements.

'Macen…'

Without looking at Avitus, Macen spoke quietly.

'I just thought you could do both. I mean… I believe you can do both, even if you don't believe it, I do.'

Avitus drew back from his memory and looked out of the now blood smeared window. He breathed in deeply and smelt the alien air. It was dank, leafy and mouldering, the pitter-patter of water droplets could be heard. For a moment, he relaxed finding the quiet part of his mind that wasn't fearful or afraid. He could get out of this pod. He would get out of this pod. Calmly he started wedging any material he could find into the gap for leverage. He methodically worked at it, but to little avail.

'Well, what would you suggest I do now, Macen?' He tried to smile to himself but failed. 'It could be worst right?'

A roar echoed around the trees and without the pod muffling it, it sounded so much closer. So much hungrier.

'Yes it could, yes is always the answer.'


End file.
